by Ford, Hannah
“Yes,” I said, my face reddening.
He nodded, but I could tell that under the lightness of his tone he was struggling, struggling between wanting to let me in and his demons, the ones that kept him from thinking he would ever be worthy of having a child.
“Hey,” I said, cupping his chin and turning his face toward me. “We’ll figure all this out. We’ll go slow, okay? I’m not ready to have a baby, either.”
He nodded again, the side of his mouth turning up into a grin, the irony of me telling him we’d go slow not lost on him.
When we got home, Noah walked Docket, and when he got home, we took a long shower together, washing off the day before climbing into bed.
He insisted we sleep naked, telling me he needed to feel me, all of me next to him. So we slipped under the covers and he spooned me, wrapping his large, muscular frame around me, making me feel safe and protected.
He kissed the back of my neck.
“I want to marry you,” he whispered in the darkness.
“Then good thing you gave me this ring,” I joked.
“No, I want to marry you right away. Tell me what kind of wedding you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
“I just want you.”
“You have me,” he said, his lips skating over my collarbone. “Forever.”
“And you me.”
“I’m serious, Charlotte. I want to marry you.”
I smiled into the darkness. “Something small,” I said. “With good food.”
“What else?”
“A fancy dress.”
“And?”
“You in a tuxedo.” My core tightened at the idea of Noah in a tuxedo, waiting at the end of an aisle for me to become his.
He must have been feeling the same, because a second later, I felt him hardening against me, and he slipped his hand between my thighs, parting my legs from behind gently as the tip of his cock pressed against my slick folds.
“I want you to be mine,” he insisted.
“I am yours.”
“Forever.”
“Yes.”
I turned to look into his eyes.
“No more than a week,” he said. “I’ll get you the number of the best wedding planner in New York. Whatever you need, whatever you want. But by this time next week, we will be married.”
I nodded as he kissed me again then pulled back, his gaze fixed on mine as he began to enter me, his cock parting my pussy lips as he pushed inside of me.
Once he was all the way in, he kissed me again as he rolled his hips slowly, moving inside of me as he fucked me gently.
We kissed and stroked and made love for hours, moving positions, Noah always in control, but never moving from inside of me until we finally both came at the same time, the two of us one.
* * *
* * *
We were woken a few hours later, at six am, by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Noah was already up and alert before I could even register what was going on. He’d pulled on a pair of pajama pants and left the bedroom before I’d even had a chance to sit up.
He returned a few moments later, holding a large manila envelope. I blinked at him sleepily.
“It was a delivery,” he said. “A messenger left this with the doorman, and said it was to be brought up immediately.”
“You really need to be less important,” I groaned, lying back down and pulling the covers over my head. This happened occasionally, Noah being sent important documents about a case at ungodly hours of the night. But even though I was somewhat used to it, it didn’t make it any less jarring when it happened.
“It’s addressed to you,” Noah said.
“What?” I sat up, awake now, watching as Noah began to open the envelope. “Feel free,” I grumbled at his apparent comfort at opening my mail without even asking me. “That’s a federal offense, you know.”
He ignored me.
“Who’s it from” I asked.
“There’s no return address.”
He shook the envelope, and even though it was document size, it was padded, and there were no documents in it. A tiny navy blue jump drive fell out of the envelope and landed on the bed.
Noah and I looked at each other, fingers of dread starting in my stomach and beginning to claw their way up toward my throat. Why would someone be sending me a jump drive by messenger in an unmarked envelope with no return address?
Noah grabbed his laptop from where it was sitting on his nightstand and opened it, sliding the jump drive into the slot.
There was one file on it.
A video file.
He looked at me. “Charlotte, go in the other room.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “I’m watching it.”
“Charlotte.”
“It was addressed to me, Noah.”
He sighed and double clicked on the file. It seemed like forever but was only a few seconds as we waited for the movie player on Noah’s computer to open.
The screen filled and the video began to play.
It took me a second to realize what I was seeing.
But then all of it came rushing back to me, so strong and visceral that for a minute I was back there, could smell the cigar smoke and taste the blood.
It was video of Lameuix’s basement, but not the video of what had happened when we’d first gotten down there.
No, this was a video of what had happened after, when we’d thought we’d turned the cameras off.
My hand flew to my mouth as I watched onscreen as Noah began beating Lameuix, and I looked away as Noah hit stop on the video.
“Jesus,” I whispered. I grabbed the open envelope, searching for signs of who might have sent it. But there were none. The address had been typed on a plain white label. “Who the fuck could have sent this?”
“Someone sending a message,” Noah said. His jaw was tight, his eyes still trained on the screen as his mind worked over this new information.
“But who would have access to those videos? They took Lameuix right to jail and his house is a crime scene.”
“Someone else must have been able to access the videos remotely.”
He didn’t have to say what I knew he was thinking. That whoever had access to the videos remotely obviously was someone who was trusted by Lameuix. And anyone Lameuix trusted was potentially dangerous.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, reaching out and rubbing Noah’s arm. “The police aren’t going to care if you roughed him up a little bit, they’re not going to prosecute you for that. What would they charge you with, assault? They’d have to prove that you weren’t in fear of your life in that exact moment, and –”
“He was tied up. I wasn’t in fear of my life.”
“I know, but a good lawyer could –”
“It’s not about that, Charlotte. That’s not why they sent this.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not to get me arrested. They’re too smart for that.” He got up and pulled a t-shirt on. “I’m going downstairs to see if the doorman saw anything. You stay here, and do not move. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
He picked up the laptop and took it with him, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to watch the video. He didn’t have to worry. The last thing I wanted to do was relive those moments.
I flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm my breathing.
My phone rang, and I reached for it, almost expecting to see a blocked number.
But it was Dr. Solomon’s office. I answered, happy to tell them that I wouldn’t be seeing her ever again, and to please lose my number.
“Hello?”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes, this is Charlotte.”
“Hi, this is Dr. Solomon’s office!” It was the same bright voice I’d heard the day before, even chirpier than before, which made no sense since it was the crack of dawn. “I’m sorry to call you this early, but Dr. Solomon wanted to make sure you came in this mo
rning first thing. The office opens at 8.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I won’t be seeing Dr. Solomon again.”
“What do you mean?” The poor girl sounded startled, like she couldn’t fathom someone not wanting to see Dr. Solomon.
“I mean that I’m getting another doctor.”
There was a pause and then her voice turned steely, totally unlike how she’d been just a moment ago. “It’s very important that you come in, Charlotte. So can I please put you down for eight o’clock?”
The tone of her voice made me suddenly anxious. “Did something come up in my test results?” I asked.
Another pause. “Your test results are in, and it’s very important the doctor go over them with you. She needs to see you immediately.”
My throat went dry. “Okay,” I said finally. “Okay, I’ll be there at eight.”
I hung up the phone and stared at it, the call leaving me unsettled. It’s probably nothing, I told myself. There’s no reason to be nervous. Just go and get your test results, and then you’ll never have to deal with Nicole Solomon again.
I was still sitting there, frozen, when Noah returned a few moments later.
“The doorman doesn’t remember who delivered the package. They’re going to pull the security tapes, but it won’t be until this afternoon.” He scoffed the last words, as if he couldn’t believe how incompetent everyone was. It made me feel sorry for the doorman downstairs, who I’m sure had dealt with Noah’s wrath. “I’m going to get ready for work.”
“Okay.”
He stepped into the bathroom, and I laid back down, my heart still pounding. I knew Noah was worried about the video, too, even though he wouldn’t show it. And because of that, I didn’t want to worry him by telling him about my appointment. He didn’t need more stress, especially when I thought I was finally starting to get through to him.
I closed my eyes and longed for last night, when his body had been wrapped around mine, when he was finally starting to let me in and I’d let myself be foolish enough to think everything was okay.
* * *
* * *
We drove downtown in silence, the heavy windows of the town car blocking out most of the city noises. I’d told Noah I was going to a café to work on my transfer applications to Columbia and NYU, and I’d brought my laptop with me, intending to work in the café that was in the lobby of Dr. Solomon’s building when my appointment was over so that it wouldn’t technically be a lie.
And as soon as I knew that everything was okay, I would tell Noah about my appointment.
Noah worked as the car moved through Manhattan, singularly focused as he answered emails and rolled calls.
When we pulled up in front of the doctor’s building, he turned to me. “Are you sure you want to work here? In the lobby of her building?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “It’s a really cute spot.” It wasn’t even that great of a lie – the café was fine, but nothing special – and sure enough Noah looked at me suspiciously, and my heart squeezed with guilt for misleading him. His jaw tightened.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll only be here for a couple of hours. It’s not like I’m going to see her. Nothing is going to happen.”
He looked at the building skeptically, and I could tell his mind was working, deciding how safe I’d be in there. Not from Dr. Solomon, but from anything he deemed a threat, imagined or otherwise. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Noah!”
“What?”
“You can’t sit in a car all day.”
“You said it was only going to be a couple of hours.”
“I know, but…” I ran my hand up and down the strap on my laptop bag nervously. “I can be by myself. Besides, you can’t work from the car.”
“I’ll come in and work with you.”
“Noah, please. I’ll come to your office after.”
“No. I’m staying here.”
“Then forget it, I’m not going in.” I leaned back against the seat and crossed my arms over my chest, like the conversation was over.
“Charlotte!”
“Are we going to just keep saying each other’s names over and over again? Everything is fine,” I said. “I’m going to be in a coffee shop in the middle of Manhattan. I will text you constantly, and I’ll come to your office as soon as I’m done.”
He hesitated.
“Please?’ I said gently. “Please, you can’t expect me to live like that, with you controlling my every move.”
He sighed and checked his watch. “Fine. I will call another car to take me to the office. I’ll have Jared wait here. If I don’t hear from you every fifteen minutes, I will come back. I will storm in. I will make a scene.”
“Okay.” I opened the door, wanting to get out of there before he changed his mind, but he put a hand on my back, stopping me.
“Hey.”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I got out of the car and took the elevator up to the doctor’s office.
* * *
The appointment lasted about thirty minutes, and when I emerged back onto the street, the sun was shining brightly.
I hadn’t remembered it being so bright outside when I’d gone in, and it had been dark in the lobby, so it took me a second for my eyes to acclimate. My head was spinning, my senses heightened.
I wasn’t paying attention to anything, and it took me a second to realize that someone was standing next to me.
A policeman.
“Charlotte Holloway?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m Charlotte Holloway,” I responded automatically before I could decide if it was a good idea or not.
A second later, three cops converged on me, as if from out of nowhere. Their guns were drawn, and they began to yell at me, demanding I put my hands up.
I was so disoriented, I didn’t know what was happening. I put my hands up in the air obediently, and as soon as I did, they moved in quickly, one of them pushing me up against the side of a police cruiser as another snapped handcuffs on my wrists.
“Charlotte Holloway, you’re under arrest for the murder of Dr. Jason Cartwright. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”
“Yes,” I managed. Everything felt surreal, as if I were in a dream. I was being arrested? For murdering Dr. Cartwright? That made no sense. The police hadn’t been back in contact with me since we’d gotten back from Lameuix’s, and Noah had assured me that there was ample evidence to prove that Professor Worthington had been the one to kill Dr. Cartwright.
Something had changed.
But what?
The policeman who’d read me my rights put his hand on my head and began to guide me into the police cruiser roughly.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please be careful with me. I’m pregnant.”
The End of Book Twenty-Four
Look For Book Twenty-Five, Coming Soon!
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